


2AM and a carton of eggs

by ihaveaducknamedpaul



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Flirting, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mattsun knows he's smooth, Mentioned Tsukishima Kei, Sort Of, Yamaguchi is a useless gay, bless his soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 13:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29999727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihaveaducknamedpaul/pseuds/ihaveaducknamedpaul
Summary: Everything about him stands out, from the curve of his nose, to the very long and very dark lashes, even the slight tilt of his hip as he leans on one leg. Yamaguchi tries not to think about how well the thin hoodie he's wearing fits to his form, or how he wants to thread his fingers through his curls. He also tries not to think about the way Beautiful Stranger darts out his tongue, running it along his bottom lip before it stays poking out like he's deep in thought.His legs tremble and well—Tsukki did always say he was a bit of a disaster.
Relationships: Matsukawa Issei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	2AM and a carton of eggs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eliasisbiased](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliasisbiased/gifts).



> Dear Eli: enjoy your birthday you funky little dude!! And enjoy this very hastily written yamamattsun oneshot

As long as he doesn't do anything stupid that winds him up getting arrested, killed, or anything along those lines, Yamaguchi’s parents let him do whatever he wants. It's in their firm belief that if they give him a solid set of small guidelines, he can't rebel like a normal teenager would when told they can't do anything.

And, magically, it works wonders. 

Maybe it's because his parents are young, or it's because they trust him—but Yamaguchi will always tell them whatever he's going to do and they will tell him to have a good time. 

Take for example, one random Thursday night in his second year. He finds himself tossing and turning at two AM, unable to fall asleep, so he leaves his bedroom and heads downstairs to see his dad still awake in the kitchen. His ever-changing shift patterns usually have him awake at odd times in the night, giving Yamaguchi the perfect chance to tell him he's going for a walk. 

Yamaguchi ducks his head into the kitchen, grabbing the doorframe and leaning on it. “Dad, I'm going out.” 

The older man jumps, and whirls around to face him with a grin. “Tadashi hey! Grab me some eggs while you're out, would you?” He puts his hands on his hips, making a show of looking around the kitchen. “Your old man wants to make a quiche and he's got no eggs.” 

Ignoring the weird choice in food, Yamaguchi nods and ducks back out of the kitchen. He grabs a jacket, slipping it on while he gracefully jams his foot into his shoe. “I'll be about an hour, is that okay?” 

“Sure, I can wait an hour.” 

“Alright, see you soon.” With his bid of goodbye, Yamaguchi unlocks the door and slips out into the night. The brisk air pinches his cheeks a little, but he's got a good twenty minutes of walking that should warm him up. 

Nights like this are quite common, when his anxiety keeps him too wound up to sleep. Most times Tsukki is there to call him or lend a warm presence beside him while he sleeps. The other nights, much like this one, are spent wandering the different streets and relishing in the completely different atmosphere it provides. 

No matter how often he does it, Yamaguchi is always amazed. 

Soon enough, he spots the luminescent sign casting a green glow against the floor and speeds up his steps to round the corner. The light is a little garish, and he has to squint to stop the burn in his eyes when he looks at it, but seeing it makes that little part of him feel accomplished. 

Something about the quaint, slightly off-putting vibes of an empty store at night makes him smile. He could hear his footsteps echoing around him, the gentle hum from the refrigerators and the music from a late-night radio show. The lights would be a little too bright and the floor a little too clean. It was something he couldn't explain.

Despite it being two in the morning on a random Thursday, there's another person in the store. He's stood in front of one of the refrigerator doors, brows furrowed as he scrutinises the pre-made food. Yamaguchi feels his limbs lock up and his mouth goes dry. 

It's hard to distinguish between his regular anxiety and the anxiety of meeting an incredibly handsome stranger. Maybe it's both. 

The longer he stands there though, watching with wide eyes like a deer in headlights—the quicker he realises that, no it's not both, this person is just very beautiful and Yamaguchi is hopeless. 

Everything about him stands out, from the curve of his nose, to the very long and very dark lashes, even the slight tilt of his hip as he leans on one leg. Yamaguchi tries not to think about how well the thin hoodie he's wearing fits to his form, or how he wants to thread his fingers through his curls. He also tries not to think about the way Beautiful Stranger darts out his tongue, running it along his bottom lip before it stays poking out like he's deep in thought. 

His legs tremble and well—Tsukki did always say he was a bit of a disaster. 

He should move right? Stop staring before Beautiful Stranger turns around and catches him. But he just can't look away. It doesn't help that this boy looks familiar, like a fleeting memory in the back of his mind. 

Of course, just as Yamaguchi's thoughts begin to wander in an attempt to figure out who he is, Beautiful Stranger turns around and meets his eye. 

“Oh?” He raises a brow, the corner of his lips curling up with the hint of a smirk. It's incredibly attractive and Yamaguchi's tongue may have just become a useless weight in his mouth.

“I– uh,” Yamaguchi tries to speak, but seeing his entire face manages to jumpstart his brain into remembering who this person is. Matsukawa from Seijoh, if he's correct, Hinata's complained a few times about how his blocks suck. 

His stammering seems to amuse Matsukawa, and the grin brings him back to the time where Yamaguchi sat on the sidelines and watched every block he got on Karasuno. In fact, thinking about him playing volleyball makes Yamaguchi more flustered so back to real life. 

“I remember you,” he's saying in a slow drawl, hands in his pockets and shoulders pulled back in a careless slouch. “You were that little first year with the jump float.” 

Now, Yamaguchi doesn't like thinking about it all that much, considering his first attempts had failed. But he nods, trying not to fist his hands in the fabric of his pants as his voice comes out a higher pitch. “Yes?” 

Matsukawa hums, his gaze roaming over him for a moment and pinning him in place. His expression is hard to read, but before Yamaguchi can think too hard on it, he speaks again. 

“Is it better now?” 

The serve? Yamaguchi nods, hoping desperately that’s what he's talking about. 

“Cool.” Matsukawa grins again, all teeth and a flash of gums, before he's picking out a pre-made meal without looking and heading towards the counter to pay.

Yamaguchi almost melts into a puddle of the floor as he watches the darker haired male leave his line of sight. His presence had been almost overwhelming, making him feel like his chest was filling up with cotton and it was going to spill out of him. 

Without much further thought, Yamaguchi forces a tremor through his body that works in relaxing his muscles and goes to find the eggs. He doesn't think about Matsukawa. He doesn't, really.

But Yamaguchi can't stop the heat in his face, can't convince himself he won't see Matsukawa again because he just knows he's going to walk here almost every night at two AM to try and see him. 

Turns out, Matsukawa decides for him, rounding the corner and strolling back down the aisle with an ease Yamaguchi could only hope to have. His meal is now in a bag, hanging around his wrist because his hands are once again in his pockets. A weird detail for him to focus on, but he would be lying again if he said he didn't also want to put his hands in those pockets. 

Matsukawa stops half a metre away from him, close enough that Yamaguchi needs to tilt his head up a little to make eye contact. And god, he's tall. A fact that makes his heart stutter in his chest. 

Yamaguchi is too nervous to say anything, his stomach tied up in all sorts of knots. He's being scrutinised, dark eyes weighing him down, so alluring yet dangerous to look at. 

“You say you got better?” He asks. 

“Yes.” Yamaguchi hopes that, once again, he's talking about the serve. He winces as his voice breaks in his ruffled state.

One hand slips out of his pockets, placing down a piece of paper on top of the carton of eggs Yamaguchi is gripping onto for dear life. His smile is more charming this time, less wolfish now that he seems to know that he's got Yamaguchi in his grasp. “You should show me one time.” 

He nods dumbly, not knowing whether to focus on the numbers scrawled out on the paper or his potential date in front of him. 

The wink Matsukawa throws his way before leaving solidifies that idea, a stupidly big grin finding its way onto his face as he pays for the eggs. 

And maybe, just maybe, he's getting his hopes up. But with the stars bright in the sky, his heart hammering in his chest and the phone number in his pocket, Yamaguchi can't help but find himself almost skipping home.


End file.
